Here: Nowhere
by lovablegeek
Summary: Filming out the window, Mark catches something he'd rather not have seen. BennyMimi, RogerMimi, onesided BennyMark. [One shot]


Mark wondered how many times he could film out this window before the scenes started repeating themselves, how many passersby and stolen kisses and public arguments he could capture from this vantage point here on the fire escape before it all ran together into the same thing, just with different people, different faces, different costumes… How many different images could play out on one street, or in one city, or at all. Then again, he'd been filming from this point more and more often lately, leaving less often except when he had to. Finally Roger got out of the house, and here _he_ was alone.

Well, not exactly _alone_ since Roger and Mimi had not-quite-officially broken up, and now Roger was usually home, at least, but you could hardly call him any sort of company. He mostly stayed in his room, the only sign of his presence the occasional sound of guitar noise – most of which Mark hesitated to call _music_ – coming from the doorway. At least he was working as opposed to just brooding. Or maybe in addition to brooding. Anyway, that had to count for something.

The phone rang, and Mark glanced over his shoulder, through the open window to the loft, freezing as if any movement might alert whoever was on the phone to his presence – it didn't make any sense, but it had become a habit over the years, one he and Roger shared, hiding out from parents or employers (back when they'd occasionally _had_ jobs) or Benny. He would have simply ignored it, except that it could have been Collins or Maureen, so he waited until the machine picked up, and grimaced upon hearing a familiar and entirely unwelcome voice.

"Mark Cohen, Alexi Darling…"

"Fuck." He tuned her out after that, turning back to his camera and ignoring with fierce determination anything that woman had to say. The next time she called, Mark resolved to drop the answering machine off the fire escape.

…Well, maybe he wouldn't go quite _that_ far.

Mark put his eye back to the viewfinder of his camera, scanned slowly down the street and tried to focus on his work. Hard to do when there wasn't anything in the least interesting to be found. He should get out of the house. Maybe see if he could find Angel and Collins, perhaps even find Maureen, just so he could—

He stopped as the camera lens framed a familiar couple, for a moment able only to sit there and stare down at them, Benny's arm around Mimi's shoulders, Mimi half-clinging to him, leaning against him as they walked, her fingers bunching up the fabric of Benny's shirt. He had to be walking her home, making sure she got back safe, but there was something in the way he held her, protective, almost possessive, that was certainly more than friendly. Mark felt something clench around his heart, cold and painful and he didn't examine the reasons too closely, of course it was because of anger at Benny, and because it ought to be _Roger _with his arm around Mimi like that (and not at all because it ought to be Benny with his arm around _Mark_, of course not, except for the part of him that wouldn't shut up, wouldn't leave him alone) and he knew he ought to look away but somehow… couldn't.

He heard a footstep behind him and automatically jerked the camera up, fingers moving to turn it off, spun around to see Roger in the loft, halfway between his bedroom door and the window. Mark didn't hesitate before stepping back in through the window, shutting it behind him – keep Roger from coming out onto the fire escape, keep him from noticing_ them_…

"Hey," Roger said lightly. "I don't know if you heard, but that… woman called again."

Mark had to blink at Roger for a second before he realized what he was talking about. Oh. Right. Alexi. He and Roger had taken to calling her "that woman", as if speaking her name might bring some misfortune upon them. Well, speak of the devil and… "Yeah, I heard. Do me a favor and get rid of that message?"

His thoughts were elsewhere. It couldn't be more than a few seconds of film, though watching them it had seemed like longer. He should get rid of it. To keep Roger from seeing somehow, and blowing up over it.

(To keep himself from remembering that split second, unwanted, unwarranted moment of jealousy.)


End file.
